Her Father's Daughter
by J.P. D'Osty-Fernandez
Summary: PostGone Can Liz Olivet help Casey overcome emotional problems resulting from a case? An SVU Mothership Crossover


**Her Father's Daughter**

**-by J.P. D'Osty-Fernandez**

**-dedicated to all those who are living with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and, as ever, to Diane Neal, the wonderful young actress who brings Casey Novak to life**

**Standard Disclaimer: The _Law&Order _characters belong to Dick Wolf.**

The door to Dr. Liz Olivet' office opened. Casey, clad in a blue hooded sweatshirt under a black leather jacket, jeans and boots, her hair tied back, stood up from the chair in the waiting room. She wore no makeup. She looked tired. Very tired.

"Casey, I'm sorry I'm late…"

"Oh, that's ok, Liz. It was nice of you to see me at all on such short notice. In fact…"

Casey pulled her left hand from the pocket of her jacket and glanced down at her watch before continuing.

"It's almost five o'clock and it's Friday. You must have had a busy week…I don't want to keep you…"

"Still hiding behind the problems of others to avoid dealing with your own, I see." observed Olivet.

A look of sudden bewilderment mixed with anger at being caught came across Casey's face.

"No! No, Liz," Casey began with more than a trace of annoyance in her voice. "I'm just saying that it's Friday and it's five o'clock. Why don't we get some rest over the weekend, and pick this up next week? That's all I'm saying. You don't have to get all sarcastic on me!"

"If you wanted to do that, Casey, you would have left me a note and already taken off by now."

Casey said nothing, and just stared angrily at Olivet for a moment. Then she cast her glance downwards. Olivet stepped forward and gently put her right hand on Casey's left arm.

"Look, Casey, I know this isn't easy for you. But we can't put it off until next week. How long has it been since you have had a good night's sleep?"

Casey looked up.

"Night before last, I got a good three hours in—well, maybe it wasn't exactly three hours—before…"

"Before you saw Milan Zegrin again?"

Casey said nothing at first. Then, she looked down again, and moved her head from side to side as if to indicate there were other issues involved.

"Yeah….that and other things…"

"Well, come in and have a seat so we can talk about it."

"But, Liz…" Casey looked up again, "This could take a while…and like I said…it's almost five…"

Olivet gave Casey a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you, Casey, that is very kind of you to think of me. But believe me. It's no problem at all. They invented take-out and Tivo for just such situations."

This brought traces of a smile to Casey's face.

"Yah…I heard they're supposed to have the premiere of that new show 'Convictions' tonight."

Olivet reflected her smile, stood to the side, and, with her left arm, indicated that Casey should enter the office. Casey walked in and sat in the chair opposite Olivet's. Olivet closed the door, walked over to her chair and sat down.

"It's nice to see that you can still smile." commented Olivet.

This elicited a half-chuckle, half-snort from Casey.

"Well, that should be entertaining!"

"What should be entertaining?"

"That new show…it's supposed to be about a group of 'young prosecutors.' I saw the commercial. They all look so…naïve!"

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, they all think that they can actually make a difference!"

Olivet said nothing for a moment, seemingly taking in what Casey had just said.

"Why does that strike you as so absurd?"

The smile had already left Casey's face. Her eyes were beginning to darken, and she was looking downwards, away from Olivet again.

"Because…because I know it's not that easy…"

"No, no it isn't, Casey…" slowly declared Liz. "Can you tell me how it's not that easy?"

"The vics…Liz…the vics…all the vics you can't help…"

Olivet absorbed this for a moment.

"Why can't you help them?"

"Well…if I was a better prosecutor…they wouldn't become vics in the first place…"

Olivet slowly nodded her head down and up, signaling to Casey that she accepted what Casey had just told her.

"This feeling…it's not new, is it?"

"No, no…like I have been telling you all along, it never really went away. It's been there since I first started working Sex Crimes. Most of the time, I can keep it under control…"

Casey looked up at Olivet.

"…And Liz, I have to tell you how MUCH I appreciate it that you never pushed me on that."

"On what?"

"On keeping it under control. I mean, many psychiatrists, they want to take everything apart…and trace everything back to Mommy issues. Anything to justify someone not taking responsibility for their actions. In fact, some of your colleagues I've had to cross-examine, I get the feeling that they think ANY form of self-control is a great pathology…this terrible trauma that society inflicts on perp."

"Casey," Olivet slowly, tentatively began after a moment's pause, "I want to share an observation with you, if you don't mind."

Casey took this in.

"Yeah…ok…go ahead."

"You were talking about self-control…first it was your own self-control, and then, all of a sudden, you switch, just like"

Olivet brought up her hand and snapped her fingers.

"That, you switch to defence expert witnesses justifying perps' lack of self-control."

Casey considered this.

"Yeah…so?"

"Would it be fair to say that you have this fear that, if you lose your own self-control, you will be no different from a perp?"

Casey sprung from her chair, a look of astonished annoyance on her face.

"What?—Liz, that makes no sense! I'm not a perp, and I don't feel like a perp! I wouldn't even KNOW how to feel like a perp! Where did you pull that one out of?"

"I didn't say you were a perp. I offered the suggestion that, if you lost your sense of self-control, you would feel as if you were no different from a perp."

"That's ridiculous! I KNOW I'm not a perp! There was NEVER any doubt about that! I don't know where you're going with this!"

"Casey," softly began Olivet, as she slowly stood up to meet Casey's eyes "I am not saying you are a perp. I KNOW that you are not a perp. Okay?"

"Then why did you say—"

"Because we're not talking about knowing. If it was only about knowing, you would be able to sleep at night."

Casey continued to stare at Olivet for a moment longer. Then, the psychiatrist's words slowly seeped in. Olivet saw this and continued.

"You KNOW that you put in 100—and then some—into every case. You KNOW how many people you put away, and you KNOW that, because of that, you have saved countless others from becoming vics. You know that, you know all of that."

Casey said nothing, but her expression began to soften. Slowly, Olivet began to sit down again. Casey mirrored her and slipped back into her chair before Olivet was fully seated.

"You know all of that, Casey, yet it doesn't help, does it?"

Casey sharply inhaled, and then slowly let the breath out.

"No, Liz, it doesn't…"

Olivet let Casey adjust to and accept this. Then, she continued.

"Well, that's a start…"

"What do you mean?"

Liz sat back.

"When I asked you to tell how me how this, how being a prosecutor wasn't easy, you said 'vics…all the vics you can't help…' And then, when I asked you why you couldn't help them, you said that you thought they wouldn't become vics in the first place if you were a better prosecutor.

"What I am saying is that, it seems to me that you are setting unrealistic goals for yourself. You want to be super-woman and save the world. And, when it turns out that you can't be super-woman, you feel as guilty, as if you were a perp. Is this…an accurate assessment, Casey?"

"No, Liz, it's not. I mean, I feel bad, but it was because of something I COULD have done.

"There was this kid I could have saved. I could have kept him alive, but, because I screwed up, he's dead."

"Can you tell me more?"

Casey looked way for a few minutes.

"His name was Jason. It turns out that he had sex with this Canadian girl, and then his cousin and his friend raped that girl, then they killed her and dumped the body in the river…"

"Did Jason take part in the killing?"

"No…he was an unwilling witness. We flipped him, and I got him to testify before the Grand Jury.

"But, the look on his face afterwards…it was…terrible…I made him testify against his friend and his cousin…I made him betray them…I told him he did the right thing…he was crying…I gave him my shoulder to cry on…"

Casey's eyes had begun to moisten as she told Olivet about Jason. Now a tear from both eyes streaked down her cheeks. She began to sob.

"He began getting…these hang-up calls from his cousin and his friend…So, we suggested he and his parents go some place safe…some place his cousin and his friend didn't know about…"

"But the cousin's father is stinking rich…he seduced one of the Judge's bailiffs, and she put a bug in the Judge's Chambers…She found out where Jason was, she went and picked him up… Jason got in the car with her…And then…his cousin and his friend… those…those…ANIMALS…murdered Jason…

"We got a lead on where the girl's body was…we didn't find her body…"

Olivet, a look of concern on her face, moved in closer to Casey.

It took every iota of strength she had left, but Casey continued.

"But we found Jason…and now…whenever I close my EYES…I see his…his face…his face…so…blue…so pale…"

Casey began to shudder. Olivet put her right arm around Casey's shoulders and pressed Casey's face against her left shoulder, her hands firmly stroking Casey's back.

Casey let out a long cry of anguish. Olivet squeezed her tighter.

"Let it out, Casey, just let it out. Let it all come out…"

A long time later, it seemed as if it was an eternity, Casey began to regain control of her self. The cries subsided, and then the shudders, and then the sobs.

"Are you feeling a little better now, Casey?" asked Olivet. "Would you like me to let you go?"

"Ye-yeah…" responded Casey.

Olivet pulled back, and tactfully did not look at Casey as she tried to wipe away the tears.

"Casey, I know that seeing Jason's face is frightening. But that is a normal reaction. Just like when you first began to see Milan Zegrin's face in your sleep…"

"But it's not the same thing, Liz!" interrupted Casey. "Milan Zegrin is an animal. He went to prison for what he did, and I was able to begin to make my peace with it because I got Gabriel Duvall for causing all of that to happen in the first place.

"But Jason…Jason is a victim…a kid, a poor kid who trusted me, and I couldn't do anything to help him…"

"Yes…Jason is different…Casey, do you remember when you started talking about your father?"

A quizzical look crossed Casey's face.

"Yee-ah…" she responded hesitantly, failing to see the connection.

"Do you remember when you told me about when he used to cry out his crew chief's name in his sleep? Do you remember when you asked him about it when you were fourteen, when you asked him about Vietnam, and he told you about the time his chopper went down and his crew chief was killed?"

Casey was beginning to understand.

"Your father was experiencing survivor's guilt…he blamed himself because he survived and his crew chief didn't."

"You're…you're saying I'm experiencing survivor's guilt…over Jason…"

"Yes, Casey. That is exactly what I am saying."

Casey sat back and absorbed this for a moment.

"So, how can I get past this? How can I live with this? I mean, you made it clear that 'knowing' I couldn't do any more isn't going to make it an easier."

"That's right!"

"But Liz, 'knowing' is what helped me start to get over Milan Zegrin. I was able to begin to live with that because I KNEW I got Gabriel Duvall. I have nothing like that with Jason…I put his killers away, but he's still dead…"

"That's also true, Casey."

"But then…how do I…live with this?"

Olivet inhaled and then slowly let it out.

"I don't have an exact answer for you…But…remember what you told your father when he told you about his crew chief?"

"Yes…"

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I was sorry to see him hurt, but that no matter what, he was still my Dad and he would always be my Dad."

"And that helped him find some peace, didn't it?"

"Yes…so, what you're saying is that I need to find someone to tell me I'm still the same old Casey…"

"Oh, I don't think you need anyone to tell you that. I think you already know that, but you just don't realize that you know it."

"How can you say that, Liz? I mean, we've worked together for a few years now, but I've only been seeing you in therapy for less than a year…don't get me wrong, I think you're OK as a psychiatrist…but, I don't think you know me well enough to say that I am still the same old Casey."

"No, perhaps not. But I see signs that tell me that you are."

"Such as…"

"Such as, when we began our sessions last spring and you told me you were having problems sleeping. I offered to prescribe some sleeping pills. You very forcefully refused."

"Yes?"

"How long has it been since you put Jason's killers away?"

"Three weeks next Tuesday."

"Three weeks next Tuesday, and yet you only called me…"

Olivet looked down at her watch.

"Just a little over twenty-four hours ago."

"Yeah…and?"

"Casey, you sounded bad over the telephone…like you haven't been sleeping for quite a few days."

Casey just looked at Olivet for a moment. Then, she nodded her head in resigned agreement.

"A couple of weeks…actually."

"You haven't been sleeping well for a couple of weeks…and yet you waited until yesterday to call me…AND we've been here for about half an hour now, and you still haven't asked me for a script for something to help you sleep…"

"Yeah?"

"Casey…" Olivet leaned forward "That tells me that your character is still intact. That tells me that, despite the horror of having to see Jason's dead face, your integrity, your character is still strong."

"B-But…Liz…I could have gone to another doctor and gotten a script…"

"Yes, you could have. But you didn't, did you?"

"How do you know that?"

"Well, for one thing, if you were self-medicating, you wouldn't be so beat. You would be able to sleep."

"Well…that's true…"

"Yes it is. And, I'll tell you something else. You had the courage to come here and try to deal with this. Yes, it wasn't easy, and yes, you did have the powerful urge to back out…but you didn't…"

"I almost did."

"But you didn't…you stayed here until I was available. And when I said 'we can't put it off until next week,' you didn't argue."

"Yes, I did! I started to say something, and then you cut me off with the charm attack about 'That's why they invented Tivo.'"

"True, but you didn't put up a fight after that."

"I was too tired."

"You were tired, yes, but not too tired to put up a fight. Someone too tired to put up a fight would have just left me a note and taken off. No, Casey, you still have the guts and the force of character to confront this.

"You didn't confront it before because that is your nature. You refuse to admit you're hurt until the injury worsens to the point where you can't function any more. But, when you are boxed in, you come out fighting.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Casey, is that you're still the same old Casey who sank Dr. Roger Tate's homophobic defence two years ago."

That brought a smile to Casey's face.

"Thanks, Liz…But I saved Ian Tate…I couldn't save Jason…"

"No, you weren't able to…but it is clear you have the courage to be able to, over time, make your peace with Jason."

Casey stretched out her arm. Olivet took her hand in hers.

"Thanks, Liz. It's nice to hear that…"

"It's the truth, Casey…"

A smirk crossed Olivet's face.

"It takes some guts for someone to say that I am 'OK as a psychiatrist.'"

Casey cracked a grin.

"Yah, I guess it does!"


End file.
